A terrifyingly beautiful New York City woman is either preparing the most exquisite, slow-burn revenge murder of all time or has lost her goddamn mind, the New York Post reports today.

Actually, the woman herself reports: Post writer Stephanie Smith has revealed herself—proudly—as the deranged mind behind 300sandwiches.com, a website on which the blogger details her efforts to make her boyfriend 300 sandwiches, so that he will deem her worthy of making his sandwiches for the rest of her life (by proposing to her). It is a modern A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, with added sandwich photos, without the rights of woman.

Surely a woman this beautiful with goals that must go beyond Page 6 cannot seriously think that getting a marriage proposal out of 300 sandwiches is ok, right?

“Make me a sandwich.”

That’s what my boyfriend, E, asks without fail every morning. Not “babe, where are my keys?” Not, “honey, where are my socks?” And no, not even, “c’mon, just the tip?”

Sandwiches. Doesn’t matter what kind. Two pieces of bread, some meat and cheese and he’s in heaven.

E is a lovely cook. He can whip up breakfast, barbecue or a dinner party for 10 without much thought. I’m still working my way through ‘The Joy of Cooking’, but I can make a few meals at random. I am much better at cleaning–after E cooks.

Things are fairly serious between E and I. We’ve been dating for more than a year, and recently, we moved in together to a lovely Brooklyn apartment. We talk about the future—-getting a dog, buying a country house, we’ve even talked about having a family without him breaking into a cold sweat and changing the subject. But I didn’t know when E would be ready for marriage. And like every woman in her mid-30s in a relationship, I wondered if we were going to go the distance.

I realized what it would take to get him to commit after the first time I made him a turkey on whole wheat bread, with mustard, lettuce and swiss cheese.

“Honey, this is the best sandwich ever!” he exclaimed in between bites so rapid in succession, the sandwich was gone in minutes. And then, he dropped a bomb me: “You’re, like, 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring.”

Each fruit and vegetable in our stores has a unique history of nutrient loss, I’ve discovered, but there are two common themes. Throughout the ages, our farming ancestors have chosen the least bitter plants to grow in their gardens. It is now known that many of the most beneficial phytonutrients have a bitter, sour or astringent taste. Second, early farmers favored plants that were relatively low in fiber and high in sugar, starch and oil. These energy-dense plants were pleasurable to eat and provided the calories needed to fuel a strenuous lifestyle. The more palatable our fruits and vegetables became, however, the less advantageous they were for our health.

“I remember back in the days, you’d go visit someone at their house, and you’d look at their bookshelf and/or vinyl collection and you’d pretty much know who you were dealing with and whether you’d be compatible as friends (and in some cases as lovers or partners). But today I wonder, now that so many people have digital collections of everything, how we’ll any longer have this ability to know a person’s character by the music they listen to or books they read. I doubt we’ll become a generation of people who look into other people’s phones, iPads, or Kindles just to figure this sort of stuff out.”

“So with the question, “How’s the whole ‘writercomedything’ going?” satisfactorily answered, the next question from my friends is “So how’s the LA dating scene?”

My answer always disappoints because, honestly, I haven’t done much (any) dating. I made an agreement with myself that I would spend my first year in LA establishing the groundwork for a successful comedy writing career, which for me, necessarily means not focusing on men.

I made this agreement with myself because I really enjoy the company of men. I’m also easily distracted by them.”

Eberhard acknowledges that there are rumors of pension spiking, and says that any claims that he accepted the position of chief solely to pad his retirement are “absolutely untrue.”

Mayor James F. Goodhart supports the retiring police chief and said that any rumors of pension spiking “have no merit.”

Eberhard’s sudden retirement was announced in a statement released by the city on Aug. 27.

“This was not expected,” said Tony Dahlerbruch, PVE city manager, “but the chief has been here a very long time, so I understand his request.”

Eberhard, 56, is originally from Redondo Beach, but moved with his family to Palos Verdes Estates in 1971. His family is well-known in the city; the baseball field at PV High is named after Eberhard’s father.

When I was starting out, my editor often told me what the story was about before I ever went out to report it — so I tried to tailor my questions and observations and even the writing to what I thought the editor wanted. But the story you set out to get isn’t always the story that’s really there, or the best way to tell it, or even a true reflection of whatever reality you’re trying to capture.

Here’s the thing: historically, black women have had very little agency over their bodies. From being raped by white slave masters to the ever-enduring stereotype that black women can’t be raped, black women have been told over and over and over again, that their bodies are not their own. By bringing these “homegirls with the big butts” out onto the stage with her and engaging in a one-sided interaction with her ass, (not even her actual person!) Miley has contributed to that rhetoric. She made that woman’s body a literal spectacle to be enjoyed by her legions of loyal fans. Not only was that the only way that Miley interacted with any of the other people onstage with her, but all of her backup dancers were “black women with big butts” as Violet_Baudelaire so astutely pointed out. So not only are black women’s bodies being used as props, but they are also props that are only worthy of interaction if that interaction involves sexualization.

Today marks the first publishing date for the Union during the 2013-14 school year.

Most of the editors on staff spent time this week redesigning their pages.

Gary Metzker, Pulitzer Prize winning newspaper designer, is one of the instructors in our program this year, and he helped me to make some much-desired changes to my page. I was very excited when I saw the way the pages looked once done.

So excited, that I missed a crucial error that should have been fixed before we went to print.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how student journalism works. We have many great successes, but it is the failures that we learn from the most.

Well played, Jimmy Kimmel. Well played. That video had me screaming laughing in bed at 6:30 a.m. one day last week. I’m sure my neighbors did not appreciate it.

I know that there is a deeper message here that goes further than the hoax itself.

I think Jimmy was clever for pulling this off, but as a person who is studying media, it makes me want to point at it and jump up and down and ask people to note that if Jimmy Kimmel can pull this off, so can other larger media outlets and entities.

I already know I am going to fail the deadline for page 5, and I want to scream.

I purposely set everyone’s deadlines so I could get everything edited and onto the page on time. So what happened?

One of my reporters completed her assignment on time, and I was so happy about that because she is new and just learning the ropes, but she went right out and handled her beat like a star.

The problem? We are missing half the attribution information for each of the six quotes she got. It is highly unlikely that she would be able to track down those six people again to get that information, so we are likely going to have to go back to the drawing board and get six new quotes along with six new photos.

I don’t blame the reporter; I blame myself.

As an editor, part of my job is to make sure that I explain everything about the assignment in detail so that the writer knows what they are looking for when they go out and start work on a story. This really means every detail, because some things that may seem obvious to a person that has been on the paper for three semesters is not so obvious for someone who is just starting out in both J1 and J11 simultaneously.

In short, I messed up, and now I will pay for it in my grade, because not having that info means I fail the page deadline.

I am actually trolling Camayak right now, like it’s a social networking site or something. From the comment feed, I can see that Jessica is active in it as well, and so we’ve basically turned the comments into a chat room as we go through and turn pitches made by Union staff into real assignments.